The Lift
by Kjirstyn
Summary: Ginny meets up with someone she thought she'd never see again in New York, while trapped in an elevator. Cute, satisfying H/G fluff. Enjoy and review!!


OK, first let me say that this fic is completely and utterly fluff. There is no plot, no storyline leading up to the point in time that this story begins, and some of this stuff isn't even possible, but I like to use my imagination for romance. Just to set the scene you will be walking in on- Harry and Ginny are both in the Muggle world- with Muggle jobs. It is the middle of winter, and they're both in an office building. That should be enough info to help you make sense of this. Oh, and one more thing: Ginny doesn't recognize Harry's voice because they're both adults and Harry's voice has gotten deeper, and they haven't talked in a few years. On with the story!  
  
Ginny walked quickly down the hallway towards the lift. It had been a terrible day and she was SO glad that it would be over in only a few more hours. Upon reaching the lift she pressed the "down" button and waited, tapping her foot impatiently. Honestly, it took so long for those things to GET there! Apparating and even Floo Powder worked faster than this. Finally, with a "ding" that just about made Ginny blow up with its annoying sound, the elevator opened, letting out a slew of people, nearly trampling her. Muttering threats under her breath she stepped into the now empty elevator, pushed the button, and slumped against the wall.  
  
The elevator continued on its way up to the top of the thirty-floor high-rise. Ginny sighed. Of course it couldn't just go straight down, that would be good luck and she didn't have any, did she? Not today. As the ding again echoed through the small room she was in, she sighed again in resignation and opened her briefcase, bringing out a folder that she needed to read. Several people crowded in, pushing her into the corner. She paid no attention to them, and continued with her reading.  
  
Several floors later, she was still reading. Finally, the elevator was on its way down. At the twenty-fifth floor it stopped and let off nearly the entire load of people. She could sense another person in the car with her, but whoever it was was in the front, and probably paying no attention to their surroundings She flipped to the last page of her folder and had just about finished it when the lights flickered. She glanced up. The floor number, eighteen, was flashing. Then, without warning, the lights went out. It was pitch black, with no hope of light in the enclosed place.  
  
That just topped it. What had already been a terrible day had just gotten much, much worse. It looked like the storm that had been coming in earlier had hit, and in this rather old building, the elevators couldn't be expected to work until at least the next morning. She had worked here too long to even hope for it to be sooner.  
  
She heard a rustling from the front of the car and groaned inwardly. Great, she had forgotten. There was someone else in this car, no telling who it was, some insane rapist for all she knew. Suddenly, her disgust for the day took second place in her worries- first place went to her current dilemma- what to do with no hope of escape. She slid as silently as possible to the floor and leaned against the wall. Maybe the other person didn't know she was there yet. Well, she'd keep it that way.  
  
For half an hour she sat there, thinking. Being in such a bad mood, her thoughts drifted to an unhappy subject: her love life. Or rather, lack thereof. At the age of 23, she'd never had a serious boyfriend. Oh sure, she'd dated a few of the boys at Hogwarts, but it was never anything serious. All they wanted was what every guy wanted at that age, or at the very least, snog her to death. But she wasn't that kind of girl. She longed for love, security, and comfort.  
  
She thought about what she really wanted. A bloke who cared, really cared. Someone who would wrap his arms around her and then everything would be all right. Good looks wouldn't hurt, she admitted to herself. Like it or not, they did play a big part in at least the first part of the relationship. What else. funny. The guy would have to be funny, but know how to be serious. Be good at cheering her up. Someone who respected her.  
  
And, if she couldn't get a boyfriend, she still wanted-something. She'd never really let it surface, because she didn't like to be too depressed. But. she'd never felt really loved. Sure, her brothers were great but they just treated her like a kid. She wanted someone different than a brother, but not necessarily as a boyfriend. She wanted someone into whose arms she could fall and cry freely. Someone who would pat her head and offer a big hug and a word of comfort. Someone she could just sit down by when she was tired and have him wrap his arm around her and let her fall asleep on his chest. Someone who would come up behind her and tickle her just to hear her laugh. Someone who knew everything about her and always stuck up for her, and maybe even fight for her. Blokes were so comforting when they let you just climb up in their lap and fall asleep on them. She didn't even care if he liked her as more than a friend, or if they were in love. That wasn't really what she was worried about, passion and all. She wasn't as concerned with passion as much as she was with love in a relationship.  
  
Like that would ever happen, she thought grimly to herself as she shifted position. Seven years at school and she hadn't ever found a male who would treat her that way. She'd seen other girls though, and that's what hurt most, that she knew it WAS possible but she just couldn't get it. Hermione could crawl into Ron's lap and he wouldn't think anything of it. Katie and Angelina had fallen asleep on and been carried up to their dorms by Fred and George how many times? It wasn't fair, she told herself, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it.  
  
"Excuse me," said a voice from a few feet away, at the front of the elevator. Ginny tensed. It wasn't a scary voice, really, but it was deep, and given the circumstances, she was wary. She didn't answer.  
  
"Hello?" The voice ventured again. Still she said nothing. Maybe he didn't know if anyone was there.  
  
"I won't bite, you know," the voice said, now sounding slightly amused. "I'm not scary, really." Ginny relaxed. He was teasing her. Still, she had to be careful.  
  
"Oh, really? What proof do I have of that?"  
  
"You'll just have to trust me," came the answer. Ginny stifled a grin.  
  
"How do I know you're not some crazed rapist or murderer?" she asked him, slightly tauntingly, but there was fear in her voice. He heard it immediately.  
  
"I'd be offended by such a remark- but I can see your point of view. No, I don't remotely resemble a rapist or murderer, and frankly- I hope like heck I never will be. Bit of a dirty career, wouldn't you think?"  
  
"I like you," Ginny surprised herself by stating. "You're very matter of fact and you're polite and kind and you even sound like a decent bloke."  
  
"Glad to hear it. I haven't ever had that said of me, believe it or not. I was just, you know, that nice young man." He sounded slightly resentful, but stated it frankly, and lightly. Ginny shivered.  
  
"Good night, it's cold," she said. "What'd they just do, turn on the air conditioner?"  
  
"No, I don't think so-it's been getting steadily colder. Besides being right on the edge of the building next to the storm, the heater hasn't been on, and it's getting cold."  
  
"Well I'm freezing, and I didn't even bring a jacket." Ginny retorted, somewhat in bad spirits again, remembering her day and now adding no feeling in her fingers to her list of miseries. The man chuckled.  
  
"Come over here by me. We'll huddle for warmth." Immediately Ginny became wary again. Her silence was correctly interpreted.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, I won't do anything to you. It's an ancient custom, you know. When the wind blows cold, cram for warmth." She heard the teasing in his voice and once again loosened up. Now over her worry, she was embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hint that I wanted to huddle for warmth, as you put it."  
  
"It's no bother," the man replied cheerfully. "I'm rather chilly too, and I'm sure you'd do the same for me if the situation was reversed."  
  
"Well, thank you." Ginny stood up and felt her way around the room until her hand on the railing touched another, smooth, but unmistakably a man's.  
  
"Need a hand down?" He picked hers up off the railing and it nearly disappeared into his larger one. Despite her earlier worries, Ginny very much enjoyed this attention, albeit at the hands of an unknown person who definitely didn't love her or anything closely resembling love. It was a strong hand, and it felt comfortable. She slid carefully down beside the man, shivering lightly as she did so, but only partly from cold. Apparently he took it all as a side effect of the cold and without even realizing it, apparently, his arm slid around her shoulders and down to her waist.  
  
"Better?" His voice was somewhat amused, but there was a caring note in it that she loved to hear.  
  
"Yes, thank you," she said, suppressing another shiver that threatened to go down her spine at the closeness of him. He smelled good, a mixture of a piney smell with shaving cream and just the smell that made a man a man. She couldn't explain it. The arm wrapped around her waist tightened, and she snuggled closer to this man, whoever he was. Other than not knowing what this person looked like, she couldn't help but feel like they had known each other for much longer than just an hour.  
  
"So," he said conversationally. "Where did you grow up?"  
  
"Well." she wasn't quite sure how to answer. "I grew up in England." "England?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing over here in New York then? I heard your accent, but I dunno, I guess it didn't set in."  
  
"You have an accent too." The thought was comforting, and helped her to trust him a slight bit more. "As for New York--- I don't know. I was always kind of overshadowed as a kid, and I just felt like getting out on my own and doing something no one in my family had ever done before. I was the youngest in my family and it seemed like no matter what I did, it had already been done by someone older."  
  
"That's a bummer, all right. I've never really had that problem since I was an only child."  
  
"Oh," Ginny sighed in some envy. "Once in awhile I wish I had been an only child. I suppose I would have been terribly lonely but sometimes."  
  
The man interrupted her. "No. No, you don't wish you had been an only child. The loneliness is terrible and sure, you get more stuff but-"  
  
"More stuff, I'm sure," Ginny said. "I never did get a whole lot of extras. I mean, I was happy, but we weren't exactly rich, and there were so many of us."  
  
"Ah. I can see how that would be a bit of a- um, trial."  
  
"Yes. But I'm over it now. I love my family, and I am more individual now, of course, since I'm doing my own thing and all. They try their best. I just don't always appreciate it." She paused, thinking back.  
  
"So, where are you from?" She asked in turn.  
  
"England." Came the swift answer, with ill-concealed humor.  
  
"England?" she mocked. "What are you doing over here in New York then?" She felt rather than saw him smile and her own smile tugged at her mouth.  
  
"Touché," he said. "But I guess I deserved that. I came over to New York to just- get away from it all. I was tired of my old life. I just wanted something new."  
  
"Understandable."  
  
"So you are how old?"  
  
"Twenty-three. you?"  
  
"Twenty-four."  
  
"Are you married?"  
  
"Nope, still single. You?"  
  
"Not even." A note of wistfulness crept into her voice.  
  
"Sounds like a good story. You want to tell me?"  
  
"You really want to hear the whole story?"  
  
"I've got lots of time. I'm a good listener."  
  
"Okay. well, I went to a public school. My older brothers went there too, although not all at the same time. I loved hanging out with them but they had their own friends, and it was up to me to make mine. I did make friends, but I never had any close ones. I've never had a best friend- all the girls were so different than I was, always worried about boys and clothes and makeup. I liked to look good, but I never spent as much time on it as they did. And I did my school work too, and worked hard at it. They didn't." She paused, letting a tiny sigh escape her. The hand holding hers tightened.  
  
"I've never had a boyfriend or even a close male friend. My brother had a friend that I knew, and we were sort-of friends. There wasn't anything more than friendship between us and hardly even that, at times. He was pretty popular and never had time for me. Most of my formative years were at that school. I was there ten months out of the year and only went home for holidays and sometimes only for the summer. My life revolved around school and the people in it." She stopped to think.  
  
"I was happy, I suppose. I had friends, good marks, my brothers were nice enough. But I wasn't content. I always wished for closer friends and a more meaningful relationship. Boys never looked twice at me. I had a friend a year above me- and she was good friends with a couple boys. They went anywhere she wanted to go, and they were always with her. She could crawl into one of their laps at night and they'd wrap their arms around her and let her sleep. I used to wish that could be me. That I could have a boy care about me enough to do whatever I wanted and let me use him for a pillow at the end of the day. She had everything, it seemed like." Her voice faltered, then stopped. She shook her head.  
  
"Tell me about you, please. I hate thinking about those years."  
  
"All right." Apparently the man didn't know what to say after her long speech.  
  
"Well, I went to a public school too. I had a lot of good times there, lots of adventures and detentions and you don't want to know what else. I had one main best friend, but two really, that I hung out with all the time, seemed like. We kind of shut other people out- but we were still friends with them at the same time. I've had a couple girlfriends but nothing ever came of it. It was fun at the time, I guess. It just seemed like I never could have the girl that I actually wanted. She wasn't in my year, actually, so we weren't together that much. She never talked to me, or hardly at all, so I just reckoned there was no point. I think at one point in time she had a crush on me, but I didn't pay any attention to her until it was too late. Anyway, I still kind of wish I'd had a chance with her, but she's probably still over in England, married, for all I know. I haven't been in touch for quite awhile." Ginny sympathized. She knew what it was like to like someone and have them not realize it or just plain not care.  
  
"Why didn't you ever try telling her how you felt?" she asked. "Maybe she did still like you but just quit hoping." She felt the man shrug.  
  
"I don't really know, actually. I just- couldn't." He shrugged again. "I would have liked to, but her brother probably would have killed me. Very protective, he was." Ginny smiled. It sounded like her own brother, Ron.  
  
"My brother was always really protective of me too. I used to tell myself that that was why I never got asked out. All \boys were just too afraid of what would happen. And yet, during my last year my brother was gone, and I still didn't get asked out, and I just- quit hoping, I guess. There was no point. And I was right, because I still haven't been asked out."  
  
"I would guess it's more likely that somehow you just made the boys think they would be rejected. Maybe you tried too hard." Ginny sighed.  
  
"I'm sure I did, but what good does that do me now? There was one person I had a crush on the whole time I knew him, but I probably scared him off. I don't know." She sighed again. It was rather painful to relive it all again. There was companionable silence between the two of them for several minutes. Then the man's arm tightened around her. Something had changed. What.? Then he spoke, somewhat hesitantly.  
  
"Ginny-" she tensed. She hadn't told him her name! "Do you still have a crush on me? .because I still have one on you." Her mouth dropped open in shock.  
  
"Harry?" She ventured.  
  
"Yes-Ginny-I um. I'm in love with you."  
  
"Harry." she said wonderingly. "Harry's in love with me." She wasn't even quite aware of what she was saying. Then she seemed to wake up. Her voice sharpened with surprise.  
  
"You're in love with me? You're Harry Potter?"  
  
"Yes to both."  
  
"Why didn't you ever tell me before?" She sounded furious.  
  
"I would have. But you never talked to me, your brother would have killed me, and I reckoned it was too late."  
  
"Oh, Harry--- it's not ever too late. Not for me, Harry--- I've always loved you." Her anger disappeared. Suddenly she sat up straight.  
  
"How did you know it was me?" She asked suspiciously. His arm pulled her back close to him.  
  
"Because, my dear," he whispered down into her hair. "Your hair still smells the same wonderful way it did years ago, the way it did when I first fell in love with you." 


End file.
